Happy Holidays, agirlnamedfia!
To: agirlnamedfia
From: fayemeadows
Title: Some Assembly Required
Rating: PG for some swearing
Characters: Pete/Patrick
Word Count: ~ 1550 words
Warnings: Domestic holiday schmoop!
Disclaimer: Sadly, it’s not real. But they are totally soulmates who should adopt a bajllion babies. Get on it, boys! Oh, and “hippopotamus” is spelled wrong on purpose. That’s how my friend’s nephew pronounces/spells it and it’s ridiculously cute. And I didn’t get into the adoption process because, well, I didn’t want to. But if anyone is curious my thoughts were that they aren’t married legally but Patrick decided to adopt and he and Pete have lived together in domestic bliss for years. Okay? Okay. Onward.
Summary: Pete reflects & remembers how they got to here.
Notes: I had a lot of fun writing this one and I hope you like it, honey!
“Pete!” Patrick yelled, slapping at Pete’s legs as he traipsed through the organized piles of screws and bolts Patrick assembled on the floor. “Please go some where else."
“Dude, relax,” Pete said, offering Patrick part of a cookie. Patrick glared at him
“You’re not helping.”
“I’m supervising” Pete said as he picked up a large silver box and shook it. “Is this mine?”
“No,” replied Patrick not looking up from the instruction sheet. “What the fuck language is this thing in?”
“Gimme,” Pete reached for the paper and Patrick ignored him. Pete walked over and plopped down, his ass barely missing the bike handlebars. Patrick held the directions firmly and Pete grabbed, missing.
“Stubborn jackass - give them to me,” Pete said, rubbing his elbow where it landed on a tire. “I can help.”
Patrick snorted. “Pete, you had to make slice and bake cookies because the measuring cups ‘confined your artistic vision’ - go away and let me do this.”
Pete looked at him.
“What?”
“She’s my daughter too, you know.”
Now Patrick felt like an asshole.
“I know,” he said, grabbing Pete’s hand. “It’s just that I’m better at this stuff and I’d like to get it done so we can go to bed.”
Pete laughed.
“You’re not better - you’re a control freak,” he said. “The hole in the basement wall is, if I recall correctly, because you hurled part of our entertainment center at it when they shelves didn’t fit.”
“The holes in the wood were not lined up properly!”
Pete laughed and shoved the rest of the cookie into his mouth.
“Whatever you say, Bob the Builder; I’m going to check on Julia.”
~~
The sound cut through Pete and he sat upright, grasping for the monitor on the nightstand.
"Patrick," he said, voice thick and raspy from sleep. "Patrick! She's crying."
Patrick groaned into his pillow and swung his legs over the side of the bed, socks shuffling against the floor. Pete hurried behind him, grabbing the quilt off the bed and wrapping it around his shoulders. He loved their old house but it was too drafty in the winter.
Patrick smiled at him when he walked in the baby’s room, Julia already resting against his chest, cries still insistent. Patrick murmured "Shhhh" and bounced her softly; Pete came up behind him, hooking his chin on Patrick's shoulder and engulfing all of them in the blanket. After a few minutes Julia's sobs settled into small squeaking noises, her tiny fists gripping Patrick's tee shirt as her eyes fluttered close.
Patrick hummed a nameless tune, something slow, and Pete turned his head so his cheek rested on Patrick's shoulder, his lips against Patrick's neck, and closed his eyes.
~~
Pete wandered through the kitchen, fingers trailing over the countertop, still wet from his earlier cleaning. He opened the refrigerator mindlessly, not really hungry; leftovers were stacked neatly in his mom's Tupperware, mingled with plates of Christmas cookies, frosting smudged from the plastic wrap.
He closed the door, looking at the pictures in Julia's homemade frames. The four of them with Dirty on their bus during his last tour; pictures of them in Vegas in front of some stupid chapel, Patrick grinning and throwing up the horns as Pete kissed his cheek. Not that they were really married, not technically anyway, but it was enough for them. Enough that they went, enough that Andy's drum tech - an ordained minister - performed their ceremony in front of the chapel with all their friends, then again at home for the parents.
Pete pulled down the picture of them and Julia at her first birthday: She was grinning, brown hair in tiny pigtails, cake smeared across her face and over her Clan tee. Pete on one side, Patrick on the other, and Pete remembers Patrick squeezing his hand behind her back, twining their fingers together and smiling harder than he ever had in his life.
Pete loved his family - their family, the three of them, and dozens of others by proxy. He thought about the first time Patrick held Julia; the look of complete fear and delight and amazement as he stared down at her. Pete knew that look - it was the one he had the first time he heard Patrick sing. He felt it all the time now - at the first tooth, the first steps, the second day of school when the novelty had worn off and Julia cried to stay home.
Everyday he wonders how this is his life, who he bribed in some other existence to get everything he never knew he wanted. The last time Joe and Andy came over he stood in the doorway and watched Joe and Patrick sit on the couch, discussing the new band Pete wanted to sign; watched Andy pull Julia into his lap and hold her wrists, drumming at the air, and he felt his chest grow tight.
~~
"Be careful," Patrick kept his hand under Julia's head even as she rested against Joe's arm. "Okay, just...support her neck."
Joe just laughed and bounced his arm, making wide-eyes at Julia and giggling when her mouth split into a tiny smile.
"Look, she's likes me."
"It’s the contact high," Pete remarked wryly, pulling the back of Patrick's shirt until he reluctantly sat down beside Pete, completely alert and ready to jump should Joe decide to drop their child.
Joe mouthed "fuck you" and cooed at Julie, "Your daddy's an asshole. Can you say asshole?"
Patrick rolled his eyes and relaxed into the couch.
"She doesn't stand a chance with all of us around."
Pete nodded but silently thought it would be really, really funny if her first word was fuck.
~~
"I give up. I just- is it too late to get her something else?" Patrick grumbled, setting his hands behind his back and twisting, grimacing at each pop.
Pete laughed and settled in behind Patrick, legs splayed one each side, and started kneading at Patrick's shoulders which elicited both a moan and "oh, god, this is why I keep you around".
Pete pinched him.
"Be nice."
Patrick ignored him and dropped his chin to his chest.
"I can't believe Christmas is tomorrow," Pete mused, brow furrowing as he worked at a particularly tight knot in Patrick's neck. "Where did the year go?"
"We're old, dude. Time flies."
"We're not old," Pete protested, giving Patrick the finger when he
turned his head, a dubious expression on his face.
"How many candles were on your cake this year? Because I counted around 42.”
Pete grumbled and wrapped his arms around Patrick's waist resting his
head on Patrick’s back.
"I don't wanna be old."
Patrick laughed and interlaced their fingers.
"I’m sorry, peter pan," he replied, closing his eyes and humming
softly.
~~
"Hey, shortstack," Pete leaned over, scooping Julia into his arms and blowing raspberries on her tummy. She giggled and squirmed, kicking her legs around and Patrick laughed, pushing out a seat at the kitchen table for Pete and leaning over for kiss when he sat down.
"Daddy took me to the zoo!" Julia exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Pete's neck as he sat. "We saw elephants and I touched a snake and we saw the hippapoemos..."
"The hippapoemos, huh? Short, lots of feathers, big horns?"
She laughed, green eyes squinting and her curly brown hair bounced.
"No, Dad! He lives in the water and he's funny-looking and birds sit on him."
"Did you see any monkeys?" Pete asked, brushing the hair out of her eyes. "Dad likes monkeys."
Julia sighed dramatically and shook her head no.
"They're doing renovations or something, I don't know - half the place was closed off," Patrick offered, sliding a take-out menu across the table to Pete.
"No monkeys!" Pete exclaimed, eyes comically wide. "That's no fun!"
“Daddy said we can go back next month.”
Pete frowned and Julia frowned and Patrick laughed.
“Ooo-ooo,” Pete jutted out his jaw and wrinkled his forehead, poking at Julia’s belly with each noise.
“Wooo-ooo, “she replied, swatting at his hands and giggling.
Pete reached over and hauled her into his lap, the two of them doing a monkey call-and-receive. Pete picked at imaginary bugs in her hair while she grunted “ooo-ooo-ooo”.
Patrick rolled his eyes and grinned.
“Is pizza okay for dinner, monkeys?” he asked, covering his ears to the braying cries that apparently meant “yes”.
~~
An hour late and Pete stared blankly at the tv, watching what had to be the sixth replay of A Christmas Story.
"It’s done!" Patrick exclaimed, arms shooting into a "v".
Pete chuckled.
"Congratulations, you won the imaginary battle against an inanimate object."
Patrick reached over and dead-legged him.
"Ow, motherfucker!" Pete yelped, off the couch and digging his fingers into Patrick's sides.
"No, no, she'll wake up, stop!" Patrick gasped between laughs, rolling Pete over and pinning his wrists by his side.
"Oooo, kinky. It’s been a while since you’ve taken advantage of me."
"Shut-up," Patrick said fondly, leaning down to kiss Pete. "Aren't you supposed to mellow as you age?"
Pete grinned.
"You love it," Pete said, the lights in the tree blurring as Patrick leaned down to kiss him again.
From: fayemeadows
Title: Some Assembly Required
Rating: PG for some swearing
Characters: Pete/Patrick
Word Count: ~ 1550 words
Warnings: Domestic holiday schmoop!
Disclaimer: Sadly, it’s not real. But they are totally soulmates who should adopt a bajllion babies. Get on it, boys! Oh, and “hippopotamus” is spelled wrong on purpose. That’s how my friend’s nephew pronounces/spells it and it’s ridiculously cute. And I didn’t get into the adoption process because, well, I didn’t want to. But if anyone is curious my thoughts were that they aren’t married legally but Patrick decided to adopt and he and Pete have lived together in domestic bliss for years. Okay? Okay. Onward.
Summary: Pete reflects & remembers how they got to here.
Notes: I had a lot of fun writing this one and I hope you like it, honey!
“Pete!” Patrick yelled, slapping at Pete’s legs as he traipsed through the organized piles of screws and bolts Patrick assembled on the floor. “Please go some where else."
“Dude, relax,” Pete said, offering Patrick part of a cookie. Patrick glared at him
“You’re not helping.”
“I’m supervising” Pete said as he picked up a large silver box and shook it. “Is this mine?”
“No,” replied Patrick not looking up from the instruction sheet. “What the fuck language is this thing in?”
“Gimme,” Pete reached for the paper and Patrick ignored him. Pete walked over and plopped down, his ass barely missing the bike handlebars. Patrick held the directions firmly and Pete grabbed, missing.
“Stubborn jackass - give them to me,” Pete said, rubbing his elbow where it landed on a tire. “I can help.”
Patrick snorted. “Pete, you had to make slice and bake cookies because the measuring cups ‘confined your artistic vision’ - go away and let me do this.”
Pete looked at him.
“What?”
“She’s my daughter too, you know.”
Now Patrick felt like an asshole.
“I know,” he said, grabbing Pete’s hand. “It’s just that I’m better at this stuff and I’d like to get it done so we can go to bed.”
Pete laughed.
“You’re not better - you’re a control freak,” he said. “The hole in the basement wall is, if I recall correctly, because you hurled part of our entertainment center at it when they shelves didn’t fit.”
“The holes in the wood were not lined up properly!”
Pete laughed and shoved the rest of the cookie into his mouth.
“Whatever you say, Bob the Builder; I’m going to check on Julia.”
~~
The sound cut through Pete and he sat upright, grasping for the monitor on the nightstand.
"Patrick," he said, voice thick and raspy from sleep. "Patrick! She's crying."
Patrick groaned into his pillow and swung his legs over the side of the bed, socks shuffling against the floor. Pete hurried behind him, grabbing the quilt off the bed and wrapping it around his shoulders. He loved their old house but it was too drafty in the winter.
Patrick smiled at him when he walked in the baby’s room, Julia already resting against his chest, cries still insistent. Patrick murmured "Shhhh" and bounced her softly; Pete came up behind him, hooking his chin on Patrick's shoulder and engulfing all of them in the blanket. After a few minutes Julia's sobs settled into small squeaking noises, her tiny fists gripping Patrick's tee shirt as her eyes fluttered close.
Patrick hummed a nameless tune, something slow, and Pete turned his head so his cheek rested on Patrick's shoulder, his lips against Patrick's neck, and closed his eyes.
~~
Pete wandered through the kitchen, fingers trailing over the countertop, still wet from his earlier cleaning. He opened the refrigerator mindlessly, not really hungry; leftovers were stacked neatly in his mom's Tupperware, mingled with plates of Christmas cookies, frosting smudged from the plastic wrap.
He closed the door, looking at the pictures in Julia's homemade frames. The four of them with Dirty on their bus during his last tour; pictures of them in Vegas in front of some stupid chapel, Patrick grinning and throwing up the horns as Pete kissed his cheek. Not that they were really married, not technically anyway, but it was enough for them. Enough that they went, enough that Andy's drum tech - an ordained minister - performed their ceremony in front of the chapel with all their friends, then again at home for the parents.
Pete pulled down the picture of them and Julia at her first birthday: She was grinning, brown hair in tiny pigtails, cake smeared across her face and over her Clan tee. Pete on one side, Patrick on the other, and Pete remembers Patrick squeezing his hand behind her back, twining their fingers together and smiling harder than he ever had in his life.
Pete loved his family - their family, the three of them, and dozens of others by proxy. He thought about the first time Patrick held Julia; the look of complete fear and delight and amazement as he stared down at her. Pete knew that look - it was the one he had the first time he heard Patrick sing. He felt it all the time now - at the first tooth, the first steps, the second day of school when the novelty had worn off and Julia cried to stay home.
Everyday he wonders how this is his life, who he bribed in some other existence to get everything he never knew he wanted. The last time Joe and Andy came over he stood in the doorway and watched Joe and Patrick sit on the couch, discussing the new band Pete wanted to sign; watched Andy pull Julia into his lap and hold her wrists, drumming at the air, and he felt his chest grow tight.
~~
"Be careful," Patrick kept his hand under Julia's head even as she rested against Joe's arm. "Okay, just...support her neck."
Joe just laughed and bounced his arm, making wide-eyes at Julia and giggling when her mouth split into a tiny smile.
"Look, she's likes me."
"It’s the contact high," Pete remarked wryly, pulling the back of Patrick's shirt until he reluctantly sat down beside Pete, completely alert and ready to jump should Joe decide to drop their child.
Joe mouthed "fuck you" and cooed at Julie, "Your daddy's an asshole. Can you say asshole?"
Patrick rolled his eyes and relaxed into the couch.
"She doesn't stand a chance with all of us around."
Pete nodded but silently thought it would be really, really funny if her first word was fuck.
~~
"I give up. I just- is it too late to get her something else?" Patrick grumbled, setting his hands behind his back and twisting, grimacing at each pop.
Pete laughed and settled in behind Patrick, legs splayed one each side, and started kneading at Patrick's shoulders which elicited both a moan and "oh, god, this is why I keep you around".
Pete pinched him.
"Be nice."
Patrick ignored him and dropped his chin to his chest.
"I can't believe Christmas is tomorrow," Pete mused, brow furrowing as he worked at a particularly tight knot in Patrick's neck. "Where did the year go?"
"We're old, dude. Time flies."
"We're not old," Pete protested, giving Patrick the finger when he
turned his head, a dubious expression on his face.
"How many candles were on your cake this year? Because I counted around 42.”
Pete grumbled and wrapped his arms around Patrick's waist resting his
head on Patrick’s back.
"I don't wanna be old."
Patrick laughed and interlaced their fingers.
"I’m sorry, peter pan," he replied, closing his eyes and humming
softly.
~~
"Hey, shortstack," Pete leaned over, scooping Julia into his arms and blowing raspberries on her tummy. She giggled and squirmed, kicking her legs around and Patrick laughed, pushing out a seat at the kitchen table for Pete and leaning over for kiss when he sat down.
"Daddy took me to the zoo!" Julia exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Pete's neck as he sat. "We saw elephants and I touched a snake and we saw the hippapoemos..."
"The hippapoemos, huh? Short, lots of feathers, big horns?"
She laughed, green eyes squinting and her curly brown hair bounced.
"No, Dad! He lives in the water and he's funny-looking and birds sit on him."
"Did you see any monkeys?" Pete asked, brushing the hair out of her eyes. "Dad likes monkeys."
Julia sighed dramatically and shook her head no.
"They're doing renovations or something, I don't know - half the place was closed off," Patrick offered, sliding a take-out menu across the table to Pete.
"No monkeys!" Pete exclaimed, eyes comically wide. "That's no fun!"
“Daddy said we can go back next month.”
Pete frowned and Julia frowned and Patrick laughed.
“Ooo-ooo,” Pete jutted out his jaw and wrinkled his forehead, poking at Julia’s belly with each noise.
“Wooo-ooo, “she replied, swatting at his hands and giggling.
Pete reached over and hauled her into his lap, the two of them doing a monkey call-and-receive. Pete picked at imaginary bugs in her hair while she grunted “ooo-ooo-ooo”.
Patrick rolled his eyes and grinned.
“Is pizza okay for dinner, monkeys?” he asked, covering his ears to the braying cries that apparently meant “yes”.
~~
An hour late and Pete stared blankly at the tv, watching what had to be the sixth replay of A Christmas Story.
"It’s done!" Patrick exclaimed, arms shooting into a "v".
Pete chuckled.
"Congratulations, you won the imaginary battle against an inanimate object."
Patrick reached over and dead-legged him.
"Ow, motherfucker!" Pete yelped, off the couch and digging his fingers into Patrick's sides.
"No, no, she'll wake up, stop!" Patrick gasped between laughs, rolling Pete over and pinning his wrists by his side.
"Oooo, kinky. It’s been a while since you’ve taken advantage of me."
"Shut-up," Patrick said fondly, leaning down to kiss Pete. "Aren't you supposed to mellow as you age?"
Pete grinned.
"You love it," Pete said, the lights in the tree blurring as Patrick leaned down to kiss him again.